


I Want Your Complications Too, I Want Your Dreary Mondays

by ConsiderableColors



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, 2 4 6 8 Projection Is Really Great, Ableism, Alternate Universe - Future, Anxiety Disorder, Chronic Fatigue, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Disability, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, It's quick but it's there, Light Angst, M/M, Mobility Aids, Neil and Todd are grown up and live together in nyc and write and act bc I SAY SO, New York City, Physical Disability, Wheelchairs, supportive boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsiderableColors/pseuds/ConsiderableColors
Summary: Neil squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "That's great! I'll be there in a minute."Easy. All he has to do is get out of bed.That's all.Or, Neil has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.Title from Paper Rings by Taylor Swift because don't judge me.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	I Want Your Complications Too, I Want Your Dreary Mondays

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all wanna see some real projection???

Neil's trying his hardest not to cry. He's really, really trying not to cry. But his legs hurt so badly that he thinks he could pass out.

Todd enters the apartment with a flourish, scarf slipping from his neck. "Neil! You'll never believe what Dahlia said- she thinks they'll have the chapbook published by the end of the month!"

Neil squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "That's great! I'll be there in a minute."

Easy. All he has to do is get out of bed. 

That's all.

He breathes in, and out, and tries to gouge if one of his legs hurts more at the moment. It's his left, he's pretty sure. Okay. He lifts his right to swing over the side of the bed and can't stop himself from whimpering. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Todd knocks on the door to their bedroom and he curses. "Come in," He says miserably.

Todd does, frowning when he sees Neil. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy. I'm sorry, let me just... Get up."

Come on, Neil. Get up. Just suck it up and get up. He shifts his right leg, and winces.

"Neil?" 

He looks up. Todd's face is full, an emotion that Neil's sure is concern, but all Neil can see is sympathy, and it makes him feel sick.

"Are you having a flare up?"

He sighs. "Maybe. I... I dunno."

"Did you take-" 

"An ibuprofen?" Neil finishes. "Yes. Hours ago. Didn't do shit."

Todd sits at the edge of the bed. "What about the muscle relaxers?"

"Yeah, I took one."

"Half of one, right?"

Neil shakes his head. "I just took a full one."

Todd looks like he wants to argue, undoubtedly remembering the doctor's words, but blessedly, he stays silent.

"Any idea what caused it?"

Neil hangs his head. "I think it was King Lear yesterday."

"Oh."

It's a conversation they've had a million times. Neil, who wants to be an actor more than anything. Neil, whose acting would involve running around a stage 8 times a week for hours. Neil, who has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Neil, who wakes up in the middle of the night sobbing because he's in agony.

Todd, who wants to support his boyfriend's dreams. Todd, who wants to keep his boyfriend healthy. Todd, who more often than not has to choose one or the other.

Todd hesitates. "Do you... Uh." Neil turns, seeming to already know where Todd's headed. He reaches a hand out to rub Neil's shoulder. "Do you think you should call the theatre?"

A tear escapes. Fucking hell. "Yeah," Neil mutters. "Yeah. Fuck."

"I'm sorry," Todd says quietly.

Neil shakes his head, throwing Neil one of his classic fake smiles. "Don't be. It's... It's fine. That's what understudies are for, right?"

"Right..." Todd says carefully. "But I meant I'm sorry about your legs."

"Oh." He swallows roughly. "Yeah. Me too." He reaches for Todd's hand and squeezes. "Hey. Publishing. That's exciting, huh?"

Todd allows himself to smile. "Yeah. I'm really excited."

Neil looks at him a moment. "We should do something to celebrate."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"What about we get bagels from that place down the street? The one you've been wanting to try."

Todd frowns. "Neil, we'd walk there."

"Hey, I got it." Neil shakes his head stubbornly. "Still got a spoon or two left in me."

"Do you?"

"Yes," He insists.

Todd bumps his shoulder gently. "You could take your wheelchair?" 

"No."

"It's just down the street," Todd says.

"I don't want you having to put that fucking thing together. You almost threw your back out last time."

"Okay, that is an exaggeration. I've gotten good at it!"

Neil tenses. "I don't want to."

"You don't need to be ashamed of it, Neil." 

He scoffs, voice full of bitterness. "Try telling that to your father who insists you're just a lazy kid who needs to push himself a bit more."

"He's an asshole. We both know that."

"An asshole with a point."

"Hey," Todd says, "He does NOT have a point, you hear me? 

Neil looks down. "I hate the wheelchair. I... The neighbors, they see me walking to the theatre, they smile at me, make conversation. And then, I'm in the wheelchair, and I'm a fucking different person. There's three-years-olds staring at me, and old ladies pointedly not staring, and all these wide-eyed "you poor, brave soul" faces, and people trying to push me around, which like, A, it's an electric wheelchair dumbass, and B, don't fucking touch it, what the fuck-"

"Neil," Todd says, "Breathe."

"...I'm sorry."

"I really think it would help. But it's up to you."

Neil looks at Todd's face a moment. His boyfriend, his amazing, stunning, incredible, talented boyfriend, who's finally getting his first poetry chapbook published after years of trying. He deserves a fucking bagel. 

He's got at least one more spoon in him, after all.

"Yeah. Alright. Wheelchair."

Todd nods and tries not to look too pleased, likely remembering how sensitive Neil can be to what he perceives as coddling. Neil can still tell, knowing Todd better than anyone, but the effort is definitely appreciated.

Todd brings the wheelchair to the bed a minute later, a green electric chair decked out in fairy lights, fake vines, and more than 20 stickers bought off of Redbubble, Neil's attempt to give the mobility aid some of his own personality. Todd holds out his arm for Neil to grab onto, and Neil manages to transfer to the chair with only 7 uses of the word "fuck".

"Ready?" Todd asks.

Neil gives him a thumbs up, flipping the chair on and beginning to steer it out the door, which Todd has hurried to open for him.

"Let's go," Neil says, giving Todd a smile that's a bit more genuine than before. 

Todd smiles back, the shy but eager face reserved only for Neil, and Neil can't help but grin at it. 

His left leg jerks, and he winces. Tomorrow's going to be hell. He might not be able to perform tomorrow night either, at this rate.

This is how it is, he has to remind himself. Moving to New York City, living together, becoming great artists. Somedays, it's Neil getting a standing ovation while Todd abandons a reading because his panic attack is so bad he gets physically sick. Somedays, it's Neil canceling multiple shows in a row while Todd gets published. That's just how it is.

His legs still hurt like hell. Being with Todd doesn't stop the pain. But as Neil listens to him chatter about his day, he thinks it's good that he at least has someone to be there with him. He's glad to not go through it alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick definitions for people who might not know:
> 
> Spoons: Basically how much energy people with chronic illnesses have. So let's say you have 5 spoons every day and you use 1 on showering. Then you have 4 left.
> 
> Mobility aids: Anything that helps disabled peeps move around; aka wheelchairs, canes, crutches, etc.
> 
> But yea. Neil has CFS bc I say so.
> 
> My tumblr is considerablecolors if you'd like to stop by!


End file.
